


In Case of Maître D' Call Gordon

by AllHailBurnoel



Category: Hell's Kitchen (US TV) RPF
Genre: Drabble, General Chaos, Jean-Philippe isn't allowed in kitchens, Minor Injuries, Set during season 4, Somewhat Ensemble Cast, Sweet Ending with slight angst, shifting pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-05-03 06:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14562600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHailBurnoel/pseuds/AllHailBurnoel
Summary: Jean-Philippe tries to help the Red Team after the Blue team conviently 'forgets' to prep their risotto.





	In Case of Maître D' Call Gordon

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to emulate some of Jean-Philippe's broken english that I've heard on the show. Obviously I didn't write out a Belgian accent phonetically because I just feel like it makes it irritating to read. 
> 
> My first attempt to write both Hell'sKitchen and RPF

Jean-Philippe peaked around the entryway to the red team's kitchen, trying to see if Gordon was in the kitchen or if he had yet to arrive. He was attempting to smuggle enough rice for the upcoming dinner service into the ladies’ kitchen so that they could prep it, the keyword being _attempting_ , since the men’s team had neglected to prepare enough risotto for both teams during their punishment. 

Now, a normal Maître D’ would just go to the head chef if they caught a problem with the kitchens before a dinner service, but Hell’s Kitchen wasn’t a normal kitchen and Gordon hadn’t been anywhere to be found when the women had come to him to say that they didn’t have a major component for dinner service. He could have just waited until Chef Ramsay got back when the dinner service was about to start to tell him about the possible sabotage on the men’s part. 

But that wouldn’t have really solved the situation. If he had waited there would have only been two options of how it would go, ethier Gordon would have pitched a fit and taken the already prepared risotto from the blue team and given it to the ladies, leaving the men either completely without risotto or having to quickly prep a new batch which could cause them to screw it up. Or Gordon would pitch a fit and have the ladies rush through prepping a batch of risotto which would lead to the same problem. 

So obviously his choice was to run and grab everything the ladies would need to make the risotto, get it back to them during the time they had to prep, and then disappear before Gordon realised he had gotten involved in the kitchen. 

When he couldn’t see Gordon he leaned a bit farther into the doorway and tried to get Chef Gloria’s attention. “Chef Gloria!” He whispered, keeping one hand behind him to keep the cart full of ingredients from rolling into him. 

She didn’t hear him, instead she continued on barking orders at the women while she restocked the plates underneath the pass. 

He hesitantly placed one foot into the kitchen and rapidly glanced around. “Chef Gloria!” He tried again. 

He didn’t manage to get the sous chef’s attention but he did manage to get Rosann’s attention. She blinked at him, seemingly confused at his appearance in the kitchen, but she just shrugged to herself and put down the saute pan she had been working with. 

“What’s up, JP?” 

Jean-Philippe gave her a tense smile and wandered in a bit more. “Is Chef Ramsay here yet?” 

“No, he isn’t here yet. We still got a bit of prep to do, I don’t think he’ll be back for a bit.” She answered, backing up as he continued into the kitchen with the cart trailing behind him. The small woman peeked around him to take a look at the cart as he wheeled it over to the appetizer station. “Is that the stuff for our risotto?” 

“I believe I got everything.” He pulled out the list that the women had wrote him before he left, he had double checked it before leaving the storeroom but it wouldn’t hurt to triple check it. “Oui, everything is here.” 

Rosann let out a little cheer and clapped him on the shoulder as she started unloading things off the cart. Her shout attracted the attention of the other women on the red team, who quickly left their own stations and made their way over to pick threw the ingredients he had brought back. 

Jean-Philippe took another step back, nearly bumping into Gloria as she walked up behind him. He watched them start prepping the risotto before turning to walk over to the blue kitchen, planning to quickly make his way out of the blue kitchen and out into the dining room to help his staff complete their pre-dinner service prep. 

He nodded at the men as he passed through their kitchen, taking a small detour towards the flat tops to allow the contestants to walk around him. 

“JP, what are you doing in the kitchen?!”

Gordon’s shout rang out across the kitchen, startling Jean-Philippe and causing him to let out a surprised yelp. His body jolted in place, his hand flailing out and clipping the edge of a pan that had been in Petrozza hand. The pan tipped over, spilling hot oil over top of Jean-Philippe’s hand and forearm. 

He yanked his hand away with a gasp as pain started lancing up his arm. Petrozza was looking down at his hand with a look of shock on his face and Jean-Philippe found himself unable to do much more than stare at his hands. 

He felt someone grab ahold of his shoulders and steer him back towards the sinks, Bobby yanked up the sleeve of his suit jacket, shoving his hand and most of his forearm underneath the spray of ice cold water from the sinks. 

“Keep your hand under there, the medics are on their way.” 

The cold water honestly made his hand burn _more_ but he stood there, his hand still under the water and glanced back towards the kitchen to see Gordon stalking across the floor towards him. 

Jean-Philippe heard Gordon groan aggravatedly as he stopped to stand next to him. The Brit nudged him a little so that he could grab a hold of his arm and pull it away from the water. The skin of his hand was a blistering, bright red and his forearm was a swollen while the skin was flushed a dark pink. “How the hell did you burn yourself?” 

Jean-Philippe cleared his throat nervously. “Your shout...your shout startled me, Chef.” 

Gordon let go of his hand and scrubbed his hand down his face. He turned to say something - or yell something, but the medic that had been called over interrupted him by finally arriving. The medic ushered Jean-Philippe out of the kitchen and into the men’s pantry, he sat him down on a nearby stool, setting his bag down on the floor so he could pull out a tube of burn cream. 

Gordon followed the two of them in and slammed the door shut behind himself. The medic jumped at the sound of the door slamming but quickly recovered and started slathering the ointment across the palm of JP’s hand. “Do you think he’ll need to go to the hospital?” Gordon asked as he paced across one side of the little room. 

The medic pulled his hand a bit closer and flipped it over to look at the back of his hand, he gave it a good long stare before he turned to address Ramsay. “I don’t think he’ll need to go to the hospital, it’s primarily a 2nd degree burn. He should be fine with burn cream and a tight bandage.” 

“Good.” 

The medic finished coating him with the burn cream and pulled out some gauze to wrap around the wound. “I’ll give him something to help with the pain but he shouldn’t use his hand for the rest of the night at the very least.” He secured the wrap in place and turned back to Jean-Philippe. “Do you have any allergies?” 

He shook his head. “Non.” 

The medic nodded. He started talking to JP as he prepared a needle full of clear liquid. “Okay, I’m going to give you a shot of Ketorolac for the pain, you’ll be dizzy and more than likely you’ll get drowsy as well, so you would be better off going somewhere to lay down rather than trying to work tonight.” The shot was pressed into the bulk of his thigh without ceremony.

“He can stay in my office until service is over.” Ramsay cut in. He waved his hand towards the door and gestured for the medic to leave the two of them alone. 

The medic quickly stuffed his things back in to his bag and stood up. He gave on last instruction to JP about trying to stay away from hot pans before he turned and left the room with a sympathetic look on his face. 

“What were you doing in the kitchen?”

JP hesitated before answering. “The women did not have a risotto for the service, I went to get the ingredients for them to do it. I went going back to the dining room when you shouted for me.”

Gordon looked confused and irritated at the same time. “Why did they come to you and not to me?” He yelled. “You may be like a fucking ballerina in the dining room but you’re practically a baby rhino in the kitchen. I constantly tell you to stay out of the kitchen because you always get hurt!”

“I am aware.” 

“You’re my Maître D’, not a sous chef, you shouldn’t be touching anything in the kitchen! With the mistakes they’ve been making you should be glad Petrozza only burnt your hand and didn’t set you on fucking fire!”

Jean-Philippe glanced up, before quickly realizing that it probably wasn’t a good idea to look up so fast when a wave of dizziness hit him. He probably would have toppled backwards off the stool had Gordon not stormed over and grabbed a hold of his shoulder to pull him forward. 

Gordon groaned loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get you into my office before you get yourself hurt worse.” He pulled Jean-Philippe up by his unhurt arm and tried to steady him without over balancing him. 

“I was not trying to be sous-chef. The women did not know what to do, Gloria asks me what to do, I go get ingredients so they make risotto.” He tried to explain, but the longer the pain medicine coursed through his veins, the less coherent and more slurred he got.

“I know, I know! I’m well aware of your tendency to help people even when you fucking shouldn’t.” He nudged JP just enough to get him to start moving. His Maître D’ wobbled slightly but managed to walk the few steps it took to get back into the kitchen without any help. 

Or at least he managed to walk without help up until he made it into the kitchen because as soon as he tried to make his way over to the glass doors, Matt literally fumbled his way into knocking JP over. Matt let out a high pitched noise of shock right about the same time JP did and Gordon didn’t even attempt to hold back the shout of puge rage as JP hit the floor. 

Ramsay stomped over, shoving Matt out of the way from where he was just staring at JP on the floor. JP was just sitting on the floor looking around dazed and confused like he didn’t understand how he went from walking one second to being on the floor the next, the pain medication was obviously starting to really take effect. 

This time he didn’t even take the time to try and help JP stand up from the floor. Instead he just stooped down and grabbed the Belgian man with one arm under his knees and the other behind his back and lifted him into the air. 

He turned around to shout at the blue kitchen while he walked backwards towards the glass doors that led out into the dining room. “One of you donkey’s come open the door for me, the rest of you finish your prep.” Bobby jogged over and pulled open the door so he could back out without slamming JP’s head into the door jams. “And one of you fuck off into the red kitchen and prep their fucking risotto since you didn’t feel the need to do that during your punishment.” 

He heard the men groan as the door shut in front of him, but Louross ran over to the red team's kitchen as he made his way across the front of the dining room. Jean-philippe was muttering incoherently under his breath in French and even though Gordon may have been pretty damn fluent in French, he couldn’t understand a word the Belgian was saying.

Gordon could also hear the murmuring amongst both the wait staff and the crews as he started to make his way up the long flight of stairs that led to his office. He made sure to kick the door to his office shut behind him, when he walked further into the room he sat JP down on one of the chairs so that he could open a side door that led to a private room. 

He had a couch in there that he laid on whenever the contestants were really trying his nerves and it was probably the only space big enough for Jean-philippe to rest comfortably away from the hustle and bustle of the dining room and kitchens. Gordon grabbed a throw blanket and threw it over the back of the couch before turning back to go get JP from the other room. 

The Belgian was slumped over in the chair, fast asleep curled up on his side. He stood completely still, took a deep breath to try and compose himself, but he couldn’t stop himself from chuckling under his breath at the sight of his Maître D’ and good friend dead asleep on a chair. 

Obviously he was asleep because of the pain medicine, but he still couldn’t believe Jean-Philippe was able to sleep after the shitstorm that had happened not even ten minutes ago. 

Gordon shook his head and lifted him back up to take him into the other room, he set him on the couch, blatantly ignoring the soft mumbled words while he tugged off the Belgian’s dress shoes and threw the blanket over top of him. 

He glanced back at JP one last time before he flicked off the light and closed the door with a chuckle. 

Now he could go figure out why the hell his blue team thought he would allow them to sabotage the women’s team.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you guys liked it! Leave kudos or comments to let me know what you think!


End file.
